And This is Where it Began
by Rahh Gumba Foo
Summary: Johnny's just a wee lad! In my defense, I was a wee lad in 8th grade when I first started writing this. I'm sorry.
1. Prologue

"Damn." 

Johnny cursed at himself, grabbing his hand in pain. He had sliced it on that stupid piece of glass he was trying to pick up _so that a bird or some other helpless animal wouldn't get cut_. And for saving the birds, he got himself a fine slash across the palm. He hated blood; it came out thick and splattered across the snow-covered street like a sprinkler gone wild. He got up from his kneeling position in the middle of the street, and walked over to the sidewalk where he sat on the front step of a house, analyzing the wound a little more.

He wasn't more than 16 years old at the time. And the high winds were making his teeth chatter. His skin was too thin and his muscles were too weak to keep him warm. His parents...

Where were they?

Most likely, they would be drunk, renting a storage garage as a home. He had left them not too long before, and while he didn't miss them at all, he regretted it. At least home would have a band-aid or some Neosporin.

Nothing like ice cold winds and snow flying towards you at the speed of sound to make a cut sting more. Johnny dug his hand into the snow, hoping to numb it/wash off some of the blood. His face cringed when it only stung more, bringing his hand from under the snow as fast as possible. Now folding both arms against his chest, he tapped his knees together and watched the cars go speeding by.

A happy-looking man walked by. He was a middle aged, stepford-Dad-kinda-guy, and he stopped to take a look at Johnny. His face went from an expression of glee to one of confusion.  
"Say, any reason you're sitting on the front step of my porch?" the man asked in an overly friendly tone.

Johnny got up from where he was sitting, and answered, "Trying to figure out what I'm going to do about this cut." He held up his hand for the guy to see.

The man grimaced and jumped back. "Augh-- how'd you do that?" He took another look at Johnny, and realized he was a 'minor'. "Wh.. where are your parents?"

Not looking up, Johnny replied, "I wish I knew. All over the place, sort of."

"They left you? You poor kid."

"No, the opposite. I was tired of them always yelling at me, I was tired of living in a _garage_... the likes. But I suppose living _somewhere_ is better than living nowhere." Johnny made a hand motion with his good hand.

The man looked at him sympathetically. "Why don't you come inside? You can sit down for dinner with my wife and me, and at the very least, we can get a bandage on that thing.."

"Well, it's okay, but..." Johnny said uncomfortably, not wanting to do any of what the man had just mentioned. But the man dragged him into the house anyway, completely ignoring the words Johnny had just said.


	2. If It Weren't For Those Bobcats

"Well now, Frank, who is this... young man? What happened to him?" a woman with curly, short blonde hair asked. She was wearing thesame dress that any old housewife would. She glanced up for a quick second at Johnny, but returned to gazing at the chicken from outside the oven.

"Oh, Veronica," the guy who had helped Johnny, Frank, replied. "This is.. eh...hm. Did I get your name?"

"Johnny."

"Yes. Johnny. He was sitting on our front porch. Poor boy doesn't know where his parents are, and he's hurt pretty badly."

"Such a strange looking boy..."

"Veronica."

"Oh, I know. I'm just saying, if you're going to take a kid off the streets under your wing, make it one that doesn't look like a living corpse!"

Johnny was hurt by that comment, and it showed in his eyes. Veronica's tone softened. "I'm sorry... uhm, Johnny. Frank will get you cleaned up and we'll find you something to wear. Once you boys are done doing that, you can have some dinner. Chicken!"

"Sorry about my wife, Johnny. She's not like that. Actually, she's one of the sweetest people out there," Frank explained to Johnny, digging through his closet to find something that would fit the rail-thin boy. They had just finished taping up Johnny's hand, so tightly that it could barely move. But it was stopping the blood from pouring out, which was good. Frank settled on a white t-shirt, and some old, black athletic training pants. Johnny raised an eyebrow, eyeing the horrendous outfit, but taking it into his arms anyway.

"It's fine," he replied. "I'm used to getting... looks."

"Hmm, yeah, well, that is the spare bedroom. You can change in there!" Frank pointed down the hall.

"Thank you."

It was a small room. It had a twin bed and a mirror, and that was about it. The walls were painted an emotionless white, and the carpet was the same color. In fact, the only color in the room came from the dark, mahogany-stained wooden furniture that sat untastefully around the room.

Taking his shirt off to replace it with the white one, Johnny _did_ notice how thin he had gotten, as he checked himself in the mirror. The shirt was a few sizes too big for him, but at least it was something new. He could have mistaken himself for a corpse, too. The pants fit nicely, even if they weren't "his style". As of then, his boots stayed on. He looked in the full-length mirror and saw how horrible the outfit was, and laughed.

It was the first time he laughed in more than a week.

"So, ehm, JOHNNY." Veronica picked a few green beans off her plate and moved them to the other side, making room for another spoonfull of mashed potatoes. "You don't go to school?"

Johnny nodded 'no', attempting to grasp the fork in his taped-up hand.

"You should start going."

No response. He was too busy trying to get that fork... no one bothered to help the kid. Everyone stared down at their food.

"How would you feel about going to school?" Frank asked. Johnny shrugged and looked up from the fork, to see Frank staring at him with wide eyes. "It'd give you something to do. Why don't we get you settled in?"

"Okay." Johnny actually preferred to leave immediately, but it seemed like there wasn't a way to say that to the man. He followed him through the hall, and into the room that he had changed in before. He hopped onto the bed --it was more squishy than any other bed he had ever felt.

"Well, goodnight. Veronica'll be up to wake you in the morning, if you're up to going to school."

"Mmhm..." Johnny had almost nodded off already, as Frank turned off the light and shut the door.

Now he lay in the bed, and what was there to do? He hadn't slept in a week. Sleeping was just not in his nature.

In the hall, he heard Frank and Veronica mumbling-yet-yelling, something parents tend to do when they don't want their kids to hear an argument (yet, they always seem to).

"You can't just let a stray kid stay at our house--" that was obviously Veronica.

"He was sitting on our front porch. What do I do, shoo him like some sort of raccoon?"

"... Yes!"

"Why can't you just give him a chance? You didn't even meet the kid before you told him he was funny looking!"

Johnny listened for a while longer, then looked out the window.

It was dark enough to see some of the stars out. He heard that in some places, it gets so dark that there are millions of little white dots in the sky. His father told him about some things called "shooting stars" that were like little stars, except they shotinto the air like fireworks.

"Ahh, but you can only see those kinds of beauties in the woodlands. With all those ferocious bobcats," Johnny thought to himself, mimicking his father.

Could you really see **that many** stars? It seemed impossible to Johnny, when all he could see from his window were a couple dim lights twinkling in the purple sky.

If it weren't for those _bobcats..._ for sure, Johnny'd take himself out to the woodlands to see one of those shooting stars.


	3. Johnny Gets A Nickname

The little boy stared into the man's eyes. They were unforgiving and cold. _Why are you so cruel?_, the little boy thought. Picking up the child, the father swore at him and mumbled to himself.

"And if it wasn't for _you being born_," the man said, and thrust the child into the wall, "I'd be getting somewhere in life! Instead, I'm living in this hellhole with you and your dimwitted _mother_, and--"

Not saying anything else, the man dropped the child from in the air. And the kid fell hard.

"I hate you," he finished, staring down the boy, who was silently sniffling to himself.

The boy feebly got up, but the father shoved him around.

He wouldn't stop shoving the boy!

"Johnny?" a woman's voice called.

He opened an eye, and saw Veronica slightly nudging him in the shoulder. _So that's where the shoving was coming from_, he mused. Finally, it was morning. He had enough nightmares already. The last one was the worst. Of course, dreams are just dreams, right...?

It was all too real.

"You didn't wake up for a few minutes! I had to start pushing you. Sorry."

"Oh," was all he managed to spit out before getting up from bed. He was still in the athletic pants and white T-shirt. Apparently, Frank was into running, and that was the only thing he had besides a suit.

Johnny followed Veronica down the hall and into the kitchen. "Now, I'm guessing you're not hungry, right?"

"Actually, I --" he started to say that he was.

"Good, because we don't have breakfast in this house. Get used to it. You may want to leave now, the bus comes randomly at any minute."

Ticked off at the woman for being so catty, Johnny left the house wondering what school would be like. Is it fun? Scary? Full of demons? He found the bus stop eventually, and stood by the bench. On the bench sat a girl who looked about the same age as him.

"The bus usually comes earlier than this. It's late," she said to Johnny without looking up.

"Why isn't it here?" he replied, not looking down.

"Last time it was late, there was a new driver that kept hitting curbs. They got into an accident and a new bus had to come around this way. Say, what are you doing here? I'm always alone. Not that having company bothers me or anything, but, you know."

Johnny waved his hand in the air, not pointing at anything specifically. It's not like she had looked up. He honestly had no idea where he came from, let alone how he was going to find his way home. "Oh, you know... over there."

"Do you see that red house over there?" the girl asked. "That's where I live. Are you new around here?"

"Yes.. well, no, I've always lived here, but I'm going to school now." Johnny looked down, and saw that the girl was staring back up. It was the first time that he had ever felt compelled to look someone in the eye; it was the first time he had done that in a long time, if he had ever done it, really.

The girl looked concerned. "You've.. never been to school?" She said, saying slowly as if she were putting together pieces of a puzzle. "Your parents didn't care?"

"Ahm." Johnny looked in the other direction. As much as he'd like to talk to someone, about anything, he wasn't going to spill his heart out to a stranger at the bus stop.

"Okay, well, maybe I'll see you at school," the girl smiled and got on the bus. He followed. "By the way, my name's Aria."

"Amelia?" an old woman recited, taking attendance of the high school class. The girl waved her hand in the air. "Robert?" Another wave, this time from a mean-looking guy. "And there is a new student in class, isn't there? Johnathan, where are you?"

"Johnny," Johnny mumbled so quietly, he could barely hear himself.

"Hello? Where's Johnath-- oh! I see you. Right in the back! Don't be afraid, I won't bite!"

"I like to be called Johnny," he said a little louder.

"John? John-NNY? Knee? Am I getting this right, knee?" the old woman asked. He wondered to himself if this woman was half-deaf.

"Johnny, yes."

"Hey, knee, why are you so ugly?" the guy who was apparently named Robert cackled. "Oh, I get it! Johnny! Nny! That has got to be the dumbest thing. Get a life. You're ugly. Eat some food for once!" He laughed with his friends. Johnny looked down silently at his desk, staring at the speckles of color in the otherwise blank surface.

"Nny. That is a hip name, I think," a girl wearing a "mod"-looking outfit said behind mirrored sunglasses. "I wish I had a hipster name as deck as that."

A girl in an all pink outfit, sitting in front of her, turned around and laughed. "Ehmagod! Good one, babe."

"Knee will be a part of this class, so make him feel at home," the teacher said, staring blindly across the room as if she couldn't see a thing. "By the way, I'm Mrs. Robinet."

_Nny_, Johnny thought, still staring at the desk. _That's, actually,not a bad name at all._

_-----------------------------------------_

Ehm, yeah. How do you guys like it so far? Sorry my other chapters have been short, but there just wasn't much to write. I'll try to put up longer chapters! Please review!


	4. The Cloud's Anchor

_S20... find the class, damn it._

Getting lost around the school, and finding every other room except the one he was looking for, Johnny had enough. He managed to stumble upon the cafeteria, and took a seat at one of the tables in the back. Why would he ever agree to going to such a filthy school! There was food scattered across the tables, and the unclean floor was vomit-inducing.

His eyes scanned the room again, this time noticing the people. Most of the girls looked exactly alike --straight, blonde hair, and a miniskirt, even though it was around Christmastime and snow had started to fall a month ago. The guys all had the Abercrombie t-shirts with insults on them. Whether the outfits were a uniform or not, you would never be able to tell.

"Ah, look, it's the living dead sitting at our table!" a familiar voice sneered. "God, Nny, you're spreading your DEAD germs all over."

Robert, that jerk.

"I'm sitting here, thank you. There's a table right next to this one that you can sit at," Johnny replied.

"The dead kid speaks!" a guy in Robert's posse laughed.

"Shut up, Mike, you're not funny. Just shut up," Rob stared coldly into the kid's eyes. "Anyway, Johnathan, you should move if you know what's good for you. This is _our_ table."

One of the boys pushed Johnny out of his chair, and he fell onto the cold, linoleum flooring. It was uncomfortable, but something told Johnny he would be better off staying there. Because once he was kneeling to stand, another boy shoved into the back of his head with the leg of a chair, knocking him flat on his face. Some girls from a couple tables over stood up to see the spectacle, laughing and flipping their hair.

"Gah, I hate you, Nny," Robert snorted, and sat down. "There's a table right across the cafeteria that you can sit at! Get out."

Johnny didn't reply. He didn't feel bad for himself as much as he felt bad for Robert, who would someday wind up getting stabbed to death by someone who knew how to give him what he deserved.

Still, It was the last time Johnny ever went into that terrible cafeteria.

-----

Johnny hopped off the bus, hoping it was the right stop. From what he could remember, there was a park by Frank's house...

...Or maybe not. His eyes shifted from left to right, looking at the different houses. They all looked the same, which wasn't the case with Frank's street. He looked back at the park, and began to walk towards it. Something about the snow falling on the dead trees made it look.. like something pretty. And something pretty was something Johnny hadn't seen in a long time.

Halfway into his stroll, he came across something that looked like a half-dead blue jay. Someone was cruel enough to step on it, and hurt its wing. Johnny knelt down to touch the creature, and see if there was any life still in it. Once he had nudged it with his knuckles a few times, it began to chirp. Thankfully, it was still alive.

Thankfully, or unfortunately? Johnny always thought that he would rather be dead than be alive and not be able to move. _Should I leave it here to suffer?_ Yes, it's important to be alive, but if you're alive and your quality of life is zero, what's the point?...

But it was wrong to kill an animal. It was wrong to kill _anything_. Johnny looked down into the bird's helpless eyes. The bird's color was so magnificent, his lavender-blue feathers contrasted with the white snow. He propped the bird up so that it wasn't laying on its bad wing, and began to unwind the bandages from his own hand. He ripped off a strip with his teeth, and wrapped it around the bird's injury.

Johnny sighed with satisfaction. The bird was able to waltz freely into the snow, and chirped happiness. For once, he felt needed.

That Robert. His friends pushed Johnny around so badly during the course of the day, and the scene in the cafeteria was most likely not the last time he would have an awkward encounter with them. For Robert, Johnny was just another being to torture into depression. This poor blue jay, though, needed him. Johnny could have easily kicked him around for fun, but instead, he takes a bandage off his own wound and gives it to a creature who will, almost positively, never return a favor.

It was then that the bird (slowly but surely) began to flap into the air, and propelled itself into the sky.

Behind the gray mask that had overcast the city, there were a few large clouds that could be seen. There was a reason for birds to put themselves through such torture and stay in freezing weather, when they could easily fly to a tropical place and take margarita birdbaths.

The city needed the blue jays and the other birds to anchor the remaining fluffy clouds down, so that if there were ever a sunny day in this place, there would be enough feathery white puffs in the air to remind the people that this dreary time of the year would soon be over.


	5. Something Of Value

The gray sky loomed over the world, intimidating yet approachable, and the wind whistled leaves through the air, making all concentration impossible. People that passed by seemed to enjoy the sights along the way. No one walked through the park to get anywhere, Johnny realized. Snow drifted in the air freely and melted once it came in contact with the ground. He found himself a bench and sat down.

That first day of school had really been a tough one. The girl, Aria, that had talked to him at the bus stop, she hung around with one of Robert's friends. Actually, she was standing by one of his friends, and when he would say things, she would roll her eyes and sigh. She wasn't like the rest. First of all, her appearance was different than those clones. She stood out in the crowd, and was probably the only girl not wearing a skirt.

Second of all, she wasn't evil like the rest. The others would scoff at him, laughing at him and tripping him and such. She saw him in the hall once, and smiled. No one ever smiles at someone like Johnny. People turn their heads, or look down at their shuffling feet, or read their maps. They'll do anything to keep themselves from staring at him. Heck, Frank only smiled a few times at him. This girl, who only talked with Johnny once, smiled when they passed in the hall.

Why would she make herself hang around with Robert and the likes? She obviously didn't enjoy herself while sitting with the Barbies, staring at her watch the entire time as they chat about lipgloss and Becky's new boyfriend. She didn't seem to be liking it too much when Robert's friend wrapped his arm around her shoulders. In fact, she elbowed him, hard. Of course, she then played it off as a joke.

Having a friend is something of value.

Too often, people will be so desperate for a social life that they will compromise their happiness for a couple dates. It's a pathetic thing when they compare schedules, asking who they're taking to the dance, hoping that they'll have a couple more friends than the other person. That they are _better_. Having a good friend is something of value.

Having people to call when you have nothing better to do, that's nothing to be proud of. You could call the operator and entertain yourself. Having people that won't call to say they're sorry, to forget to call back, that's nothing to be proud of either. That's not what a friend is. Having someone that will call no matter what, that's something of value. That's something that Johnny didn't quite have just yet.

He thought those things to himself as he left the park and began to make his way to "home". The sidewalk was crowded for the weather being so bad. Apparently, no one used cars around the place. Johnny slid his way through the main street and, when he finally got to his own street (which was bare), he sighed with relief. Seeing one more person grimace at him could have killed him.

_There are times when I feel like I don't even even exist. Times like these that make me forget my own name. All they do is stare and laugh--_

"Johnny?" he heard a voice calling to him from behind. "Is that you?"

He swiveled around, and finally found the person that had yelled his name. It was Aria, and she was standing still, letting the snow hit her hard as if it didn't bother her at all.

"Hi, Johnny!" she smiled, catching up to him with somewhat of a sprint. "What are you doing out here?"

"Hello, Aria. I'm pretty sure I live somewhere on this street," Johnny gestured with his hands, mumbling. "I was at the park."

"Hm. Really? I'm surprised I didn't see you there just now, because that's where I was." They moved their feet side by side for a few seconds, then she continued. "You're probably wondering why I know your name. Alex told me you were Johnny. Do you know him?"

"I don't think so. The only other name I know besides yours, is Robert." He paused. "I don't think he -or his friends- like me much."

Aria frowned, and in a lowered voice, she said, "... don't listen to anything Robert says or does. He's a jerk... I would know. Alex isn't that great either, but what can you do in a town like this? There's only so many kids that aren't psychopathic. Friends are hard to find."

"Yes, they are."

"You don't seem like a shallow person. You seem different than the rest. In a good way, of course." She stopped walking, and smiled. "Well, this is my house. I'll be seeing you tomorrow, Johnny."

"Goodnight, Aria," Johnny replied softly as she shut her front door. He shuffled past two houses and found his own. The lights were off, which was a good thing. The thought of being asked how his day was made him sick.

----------------------------------

I -really- love how cheesy this is getting. XD


	6. Caring is CREEPY

Johnny had originally planned to spend his day riding the subway's route numerous times, when a familiar girl stepped into the small, cramped car.

Before he left, as usual, Frank would give Johnny a little nod, as if that sufficed for asking about his day and where he was going, and Johnny would step out of the front door and onto the snowy porch. He would meander around in the cold, going nowhere in particular. But today had been an extremely cold one, and the fastest way home was through the subway.

Upon riding the subway for more than a few hours, Johnny realized that it was quite an entertaining thing, to people-watch and stand up and sit down and lean on the poles and make small conversation with the homeless. It was amazing, how many things he found himself doing for entertainment. Lately, he had been sitting on park benches and riding public transportation a lot. It seemed to be his favorite.

"Oh, look who's here!" Exclaimed a familiar voice, and once again, Johnny looked up to find Aria, smiling her usual meek smile as she took a seat next to him. "I always seem to be bumping into you. We must be on the same agenda."

"Yeah, it does seem that way," Johnny replied, halfheartedly smiling back. "On your way home?"

"Nah," Aria looked up at the flourescent light, and rubbed her eyes. "I was thinking about taking a walk."

Johnny laughed, "Hm," he rubbed his hands on hispants,trying to generate heat. "I was going to do that. The subway, although entertaining, is beginning to rot my mind."

"Well, why don't you come with me?"

_Well, why don't you come with me?_ Johnny had never been invited anywhere. Even if it was just because "they were on the same agenda". Either way, it made his day.

The rest of the day was spent with Aria, walking through the park, eating, and walking through the city a little more. The weather was indeed brisk, but in a good sort of way, Johnny decided. The kind of wind that blows your hair around without messing it up. The overcast that doesn't make you feel gloomy, but instead gives you some sort of gray inspiration. The sky was just so big and ... endless. He could barely keep himself from collapsing on the ground and just... watching it.

_It's funny_, Johnny thought. Aria was actually enjoyable to be around. He had never really spent time with _anyone_ alone, and it was nice. He was able to talk to her as if he had known her for longer than he actually had. _Maybe this is what a friendship is like..._

They walked off in one direction for a while. It was a winding dirt road, that seemed to be going nowhere. They thought about that possibility, but kept walking. Seemed as if no one had walked this path for years, as if the dirt was starting to collect dust.

"This is really cool," Aria mentioned. "I mean, it's really cool to get away from the chaos of the city."

"It is," Johnny agreed. "I wish I could just live in a place like this. I don't need people to get in my way. I'd be perfectly happy, in some solitary place like this."

Aria asked, in somewhat of a hurt tone, "You... you wouldn't miss anyone?"

Johnny paused. "...I can't say I'd miss a lot of people." He paused again. "But..." he then said slowly and softly, stopping inbetween his words, "I'd miss you."

There was silence for a minute, as they shuffled their feet.

"I like you, Johnny," she smiled. She sat down on the grass that bordered the path, and motioned for Johnny to do the same.

More silence. She finally spoke up again. "But.. why are you always so down?"

Johnny let out a silent sigh. It was one of those... _questions._ Where are your parents? You've never been to school? Why don't you ever smile? "I guess... my life hasn't been as enjoyable as it should be. Have you ever felt completely alone?"

It was kind of a weird question to ask. But, that was the only way he could describe his emotion. She replied an indecisive 'no', and he continued, "Well, I guess that's just ... I guess that's just it." He picked at the grass around him in kind of an ashamed embarassment.

Aria suddenly wrapped her fingers around Johnny's frail hand. He flinched, but looked up from the grass and smiled genuinely. "You shouldn't feel that way."

He looked back down, "That's not even the half of it."

"It's not?"

Johnny half moaned, half sighed. "I used to live... with my parents. I've never actually lived anywhere else. I just left, because my parents are alcoholic retards," Johnny pointed to some purple bruises on the back of his neck. "I had nowhere to go, so I kinda roamed around for a couple of nights. This guy, Frank, brought me into his house after I cut my hand on a piece of glass, because I happened to be sitting on his front porch."

He looked up again to see Aria, and the biggest look of concern he had ever seen,even biggerthan Frank's, when Johnny was showing him his injury. He didn't stop his story, though. "I didn't really want to be saved. Honestly, at the time, I would have rather starved or frozen myself to death. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but I tried to get hit by oncoming trucks. Multiple times. For entertainment."

"I hate blood. But I just wanted to rip myself apart. Because I don't belong." He sighed, again.

Aria stuttered, looking into his eyes, finally half-understanding the despair they held. "You do belong, Johnny."

"Promise me, you'll never try to kill yourself?"

"I guess I can promise that,"he replied, andlooked up.

Johnny'seyes. They weren't just tired. They were exhausted, miserable, waiting for something to come by. And she hadn't realized it until that very moment. She imagined him kneeling on the road, or whatever ... his disappointment when he hadn't been hit.

He needed someone to love him.

And neither of them had any idea why Johnny wrapped his skinny arms around her, or why Aria touched her shaking hand to the back of his bruised neck, or why their lips had met, and had not parted for quite some time. But neither of them seemed to mind.

---------------------

Ehm. Ahem. Sorry if this chapter was **EXTREMELY** cornball. I've been listening to Imogen Heap, the Shins,and the Postal Service. :D Yyyeah. So the title of this chapter is from a Shins song. I thought it somewhat fit.

Thanks for the reviews, guys! You seriously make my day.

I've re-written this chapter about 5 times. That's why it's taken so long to get a new chapter up. I had written it so that Frank would get on the subway, then I wrote it so that Veronica had left Frank (because I just _hate_ her character --she bores me to death), I wrote it similarly to this version, but I just didn't like it.

I'm still not that happy with it, but it's a **MAJOR** improvement. All I know is that .. I know how this story is going to end.

I can't wait for that chapter.

So anyway. Sorry if this chapter kinda sucks.


	7. Butterflies and Hurricanes

Nyaaaa. Do I like this chapter? I have no idea! But I was listening to some of my favorite bands while writing it. So.. um.. yeah.

Also, thanks for the reviews! I get a warm feeling inside my heart when I hear someone likes my story. And no, I'm not being sarcastic. :p

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_Come over_, she had said. _I want to see you..._

No one ever wanted to see a sorry sight like Johnny. That sick-looking boy with the styleless white t-shirt. No one seemed to be happy to see him when they saw dragging himself along the sidewalk. The people passed on, maybe raising an eyebrow at the most, but they didn't seem to care much about him at all. Usually, Johnny didn't enjoy seeing other people, either.

But when he knocked at Aria's door, Johnny was greeted by a warm smile. Even a strong hug. Behind her was an inviting couch, and a TV with some old movie playing. The coffee table had newspapers and a remote control strewn across it. It was obvious that people lived in the house, unlike Frank's house. He was constantly at work, and the woman.. who even _knew _where she was.

_Sit down_, she had said. And so Johnny did. He found a spot on the couch, resting against the tall arm-rest. The movie was near its end, he could tell. The main characters were saying their final words, saving each other from falling off the cliff, confessing their love, and whatnot. It was amusing to see how similar to a fairy tale the whole plot was. Everything ended up to be perfect; a happily ever after followed by hours of credits.

And then another movie started playing immediately after. "It's the movie channel," Aria explained to him when he stared at her, puzzled. "Nothing else is really on at midnight, anyway. Infomercials, is all."

"Hmm," was about all Johnny could say. It was funny, how the two barely spoke, but they never felt awkward. Aria rested her head on his chest. Things had been different ever since that day at the Lonely Road.

How long had it been? A month... at least.

Anyway, things were very different. Johnny didn't know if he liked the closeness or whether he loathed it, but he wasn't about to object to a friend... his only friend.

Silence, besides the conversations in the movie.

It was the romantic scene, the mandatory scene required for any movie. Aria looked up into Johnny's loyal eyes, and whispered, "I never thought I'd say this... but, I'd do anything for you." A spontaneous, almost materialized tear dripped down her face, and Johnny wiped it away gently with his fingers.

And suddenly, everything felt naturally right; _happy_. In a materialized sort of way, or a pure sort of way, Johnny wasn't sure. But, then again, he wasn't sure of anything.

"Oh, my God."

A teenage boy Johnny had seen around school came walking in through the garage door. "Do I live here?" the kid asked, fully disgusted.

He found Aria and Johnny, laying on the couch, wrapped up in what looked like a romantic tongue lock. Aria gripped somewhere up Johnny's shirt, oblivious to the other in the room. This lasted for a second. Immediately after realizing what was going on, Johnny jumped up, thrusting the girl away from him. She looked up for a few moments, and wailed, running into some other room. She didn't stop to say anything to Johnny.. she simply ran.

This made him confused. Not even a glance of apology? His emotions had shifted from a complete high to one of fight-or-flight. He, instinctively, sprinted for the front door. He furiously jiggled at the knob to find it was locked.

"Oh... oh, fuck! It's that little scrawny Johneethan kid! You... you, with my sister!"

Johnny jiggled the door again, this time kicking it and slamming up against it with all his might.

"You do know who I am, don't you?"

Johnny turned around, panting a little. And as soon as he did, he recognized the kid's face from his first day. He had been one of the ones who pulled him off of his own chair in the cafeteria. Towering above him, laughing, as he lay on the floor.

"Well, it's Alex," Alex explained, secretively pulling something out of a kitchen drawer. "Now, Robert told me if I ever saw you out of school, I was to kick your _ass_." He pulled out a large kitchen knife, that reflected the movie image in its blade. "Now, I don't like to call myself an over-achiever, but, seeing as you just raped my sister, or, God, I don't even know what..."

The blade inched closer and closer. Closer to Johnny's cornered little body. There was no way of escaping this kid, except going through him. Which probably wasn't going to happen. Johnny had never really known what it was like to know that you were **going** to die.

When you aren't faced with a choice of life or death, some people lean towards the "death" side, not really aware of what knowing you're going to die feels like. But when you're face to face with a blade, you realize how valuable life really is.

The situation filled his eyes with some angry, watery substance he had never felt before, either. Too many new things at once.

"I'd like to get the job done right," Alex finished. "You crybaby." Johnny gasped for a breath, when suddenly--

"SHIT!" Alex growled, as Johnny quickly grabbed his wrist, just before it was about to reach his neck, and the knife dropped to the floor. They both stood in a perfectly still stance, panting angrily, staring down first at the knife and then into each other's red eyes. "Oh, you little fuck. You think you're _better_ than me. You... oh, God. What are you doing, in my house! Stay away from my sister, you sick little---"

In one swift motion, Johnny lunged to the ground, grabbed the knife, and, with one merciless motion, stabbed Alex's stomach. Alex collapsed to the ground, now dizzy from his pain. His impending death.

"I can promise you I won't _ever_ be seeing your," Johnny paused, shivering, "sister." His knees were on the ground, palms being drowned in a puddle of red. Johnny shuddered, breaking one of the windows as quickly as possible, and rolling himself out. The angry liquid coming from his eyes came out faster and faster as he ran down the street. He dodged past honking cars and green traffic lights, unaware of anything.

He didn't like this feeling.

Upon reaching the bathroom, he stripped himself of everything he was wearing. Everything except what was underneath his clothes, at least. He turned the cold water on, as high as the pressure would get. He flushed his face with it, letting the cool water soothe his burning red face, and eyes. His hands were trembling. Had he _really_ just done what he _thought_ he did? He stared into the mirror, examining his shaking, half-naked self.

_You sicken me._

Of course, he was talking about three people. First of all, himself. Second of all, Alex. And third, Aria. Yes, even that girl he had seemed "happy" with before.

He gripped the edge of the sink, clenching it as hard as he could. He leaned in, to get a closer look at himself. Now, he hadn't been scratched at all during the act of.. stabbing Alex. He hated himself for it. One side of him knew it was an act of self-defense. The other saw it as ... well, a murder.

_Oh, that's priceless._

_You're too weak to stand, huh? At least you could have been careful not hit your head on the edge of the bath..._

He gasped for air like a fish out of water, shivering on top of the cold bathroom tile, his body still wet from splashing himself.

_Cold on your bare skin, isn't it?_

"Fuck."

_Isn't it comforting to know that there's no one to hold your hair back in your time of need?_

_...While you're vomiting your insides out?_

"Come over, I want to see you," Johnny growled mockingly. "I never want to see you again."

_You better clean that up. No one else will._


	8. This Place is a Prison

I hope you guys like this chapter. I personally think it's okay, considering the mediocre plotline. I wanted to torture Aria a lot more, because I hate her more than anything, but I didn't have the heart. Anyway, I've been having writer's block lately, and no matter the amount of music I listen to, things aren't getting better. Muse... ah, what a great band. But yeah. I HAD an idea of where I want this story to end, and now I really have no idea where it's going to go. This will probably be the third or second-to-last chapter. I'll just wing it. So.. thanks for the reviews! They warm my freezing little heart (yes, my hands are practically numb right now. CURSE YOU, HEATER!).

ps. The stuff in italics.. I guess that's Nny's concience. Stuff.

----------------------------

Johnny awoke, startled under the thin, white sheets. They didn't do anything to warm the bare boy; the wind whistled in through the cracked glass of the window. There was a nice silence around him, the only noise being if he shifted positions. How had he gotten in his bed in the first place? Ah, well... the thought didn't bother him too much. The cold air seething through the thin cotton was refreshing after an endless, sweaty night.

Someone was knocking at the bedroom door. He pulled the covers over his head in embarrassment. He heard the doorknob jingle as it opened.

"Johnny?" a voice said softly.

_It's her_. It didn't take long to figure out whose voice that was --it was too kind to be Veronica's, and too womanly to be Frank's. _What the hell is she doing here?_

"Aria? How did... how did you get in?"

All of a sudden, she burst into a drawn-out sob. Johnny peeked his head out from under the covers. She was kneeled at the side of his bed, hiding her face in the mattress. He could see dark marks where her wet eyeliner had stained the blank sheet. "Your mother let me in."

_Mother! Ha. Didn't she pay attention once during your story? About how you were picked up off the street? Shows how much she cares._

Johnny sat up as if he were paying attention, but he couldn't say anything to her. All that he could think about is how long it would take her to call the police on him.. for murdering her brother.

"Alex committed suicide last night," she finally choked. "Stabbed.. he stabbed himself to death, Johnny!"

_You weren't caught, killer! You can breathe!_

"I.. we, my mother, found him dead, and.. why would he do this!" She sobbed in broken sentences, this time burying her face into Johnny's stomach. At that point, he wasn't worried about being seen without a shirt... he was more worried about how he was going to get away from the hysterical girl.

_Kill her before she finds out that Alex didn't really commit suicide_.

By now, she was sitting next to him on the bed, as Johnny folded his arms and kept his distance as best as he could."I don't understand this at all. Was it my fault? Why!" was all she could say, over and over, getting quieter each time. "I can't even think how he devised such an awful--"

"Aria... leave."

She stopped crying for a moment. "Wh--what?"

"You need to leave."

_You coward._

_You'd be doing her a favor by ending her misery._

Johnny could only bring himself to murmur, "I can't... you can't... you can't be here." He would have added an 'or I'll have to kill you', but he decided not to risk it.

She apologized. She didn't move, though. She began sniffling again. "I... I just need somone. Someone to--"

"_Aria._ You need to _go_!" Johnny jumped up from the bed, clenching his fists. She jumped up too, and started sobbing.

_That girl doesn't stop, does she?_

"Why, Johnny? Why?"

---

A/N: HAHAHAHAH. Ahem. That was hilarious.

---

He couldn't do anything but strike the girl across the face. She screamed, holding her cheek up to her face and sobbing harder than she had before. All of a sudden, Johnny felt a mixture of hatred and sympathy. The girl... she cared, but she was so mindless. She really didn't have any idea about anything. Not even her own feelings. "I'm... God, Aria, I'm sorry." He reached out for her hand, and for one moment he held hers, but she took it away quickly. "I'm... please."

_Learn to speak English. 'I'm Please' isn't a sentence._

"Go," he repeated. She didn't reply. "I can't fucking be around you anymore." He gripped the edge of the dresser as tightly as possible.

She walked to the door. She looked at him one last time, and the door creaked shut.

_I hate her._

_You hate her! What about me? I'm the one who has to listen to your twisted conversations with that bitch._

"You!" Johnny slammed his fist onto the dresser, knocking down an empty glass that had been filled with water a couple days ago. "You don't even exist. You wouldn't even know."

_If I didn't exist, you wouldn't be referring to me as 'you'._

"This room... this place, it's a prison." And it wasn't a lie. Being locked up in this room made Johnny go crazy. The cold draft wasn't inviting anymore. It was only a reminder of how cold the world really was --metaphorically, and literally. Oh, and that mirror... the corpse staring back at him constantly. That reflection was no longer an innocent looking boy, who was a little rough on the edges. Since the previous night, his image had turned into a _monster._ A murderer. An unclean, bloody, unforgiving, hysterical, naked monster.

Oh. He completely forgot about that naked factor.

And it was pretty freezing.

Johnny sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. He went into the bathroom to wash off.

_Tired of looking at yourself in the mirror? Yeah, I was too._

_You damn ugly lunatic._


	9. The Only Living Boy in New York

Eh. This may or may not be one of the last chapters in this story. I still have some thinking to do about where I want this story to go now. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter. I liked writing it, but mostly because I'm _sick_ of writing angst. P Note: I hate Simon and Garfunkel (with a burning passion, sorry for all you fans), and I have NO idea why I'm using a title of one of their songs as a chapter title. It just kinda fit, I guess.

---

Johnny walked into the convenience store, and a tiny bell rang. There was a tired, old-looking man working at the counter who glared at him. It was quiet in there, but then again, it was midnight, so nobody would exactly expect a crowd of people in a drugstore.

Johnny scanned the shelves... they were pathetically bare, much like his own self. His pockets were empty (aside from a few coins), and his black, long-sleeved tee wasn't much of a winter jacket. He picked up a fun-size bag of chips and headed for the counter.

"Say, kid, what are you doing out here so late?" the old man asked, snatching the chips from Johnny's fingers. "Don't kids these days have curfews?"

"I still have an hour before mine," Johnny replied, lying. He figured saying he killed the two people who provided him shelter wasn't a good idea.

"Ah," the man replied. "Are you interested in trying a Brain-Freezy? I'm supposed to be sellin' 'em."

Johnny glanced at the slushie machine, amused. One of the nozzles was dripping something blue. "What is it?"

"I don't know, some newfangled ice-and-meat contraption. Listen, I'll just give you a free sample, since you're lookin' a little sickly, but let's keep this between you and me, alright?"

Johnny nodded gratefully, taking the frigid cup in his hands. Through the clear plastic of the cup was a mixture of crushed ice and bits of maraschino cherries. He sipped a little through the straw ... and a delighted smile crept onto his face.

"Ya like that, eh?"

"Yes. Thank you, sir." Johnny grabbed his chips, took another sip of the brain-freezy, and headed out the door.

_That man was nice, eh? Not evil, like the people you've recently been running away from._

The voices in Johnny's head hadn't been so evil, since he ran away from the Frank-and-Veronica house. (Or, to put it bluntly, since he killed them off). Things seemed to be looking up for the boy.

-

Minutes later, Johnny was perched on a bench in front of some apartments, watching some commotion from across the street. There was a news reporter fixing his hair and giving orders.

_Does anyone watch the news after midnight?_

"Good evening, folks, we've got a breaking news report to interrupt your infomercials. Police discovered the dead body of Alex Hamilton last night, and tonight, we have discovered it was a definite suicide," a news reporter spoke to a camera enthusiastically.

_Alex? Wasn't he that asshole that you--_

He continued, "Apparently, he stabbed himself in the stomach. Poor kid. We've got the younger sister, Aria Hamilton, with us tonight. Aria, how are you dealing with this?"

_Hey, that's that girl!_

Johnny wasn't focusing on devouring the chips, anymore. He eyed the girl from across the street, hoping to hear something. Since when was it _Alex_ who stabbed _himself_?

"Well, it's been difficult," Johnny heard the familiar girl whine. "My family and I had no idea what was going on with him."

He felt the same boiling feeling in his stomach that he got whenever he was around that girl. It was an unpleasant feeling.

"Ah, we're sorry to hear that," the news reporter feigned sympathy. "In other breaking news, a couple was murdered and police cannot find any evidence. We cannot identify these people just yet, but one was a man in his early 40's with brown-gray hair. The woman had curly blonde hair and unnaturally tan skin."

_Frank... and Veronica?_

The news reporter looked to a police officer, who said, "Nope. We're not finding anything. No fingerprints, no fibers, just a helluva lotta blood." The officer then stuck a finger in the camera, and added, "Folks, be on the lookout tonight. This monster of a murderer may come into your house, and, when you least expect it, _kill you_! He'll cut your dirty little throats, and he'll post pictures of it on the goddam internet, and THEN he'll--"

"_THANK_ you, officer!" the reporter said a little loudly, cutting off the other man and pushing him out of the way. Johnny chuckled, then sighed discontentedly. He wasn't a monster, was he? Since he wasn't caught?

...It was a little strange that he hadn't been caught for either murders.

Just then, he met eyes with Aria, who was standing off-camera now. Her hand motioned for him to come over. He dropped his chips and brainfreezy, and attempted to inconspicuously _run_ from the scene before she saw.


	10. Another Sleepless Night

A warning to all. Before you start reading this chapter, be aware that it will be the last chapter of this story. No, it's not finished, but I can't bring myself to continue to write anything for this story anymore. It has become overly-cheesy and tedious. I laugh while reading the chapters. Plus, I just can't think of an ending. You can basically predict that Johnny will arrive at 777 and stuffffff. Maybe I will go back to fix things in the future, and make this a fic with some substance, but not now. I have other plans... bwahaha. I love Stevie Wonder.

* * *

A while later, Johnny found himself sitting upon the cheap bedding of a motel room mattress. How he got there, he wasn't sure. It was too late (and too cold) to be wandering around the city.

_You know what your problem is?_

The room wasn't a pleasant place. The only light came from the dim, old lamp in the corner, and the smell of the place was like an old, wet book. The door didn't shut completely, which resulted in a terrible draft. The window looked like it hadn't been washed in years. There was a small TV in the middle of the room, perched on a table that seemed ancient. Johnny could hear a couple arguing in the room next to his.

_I said, do you know what your problem is?_

Johnny lay back on the bed, shifting a little as the mattress springs dug into his back. "I prefer not to speak to the voices in my head. You seem to be just as crazy and delusional as I am. Even more, maybe. I have it under control _without_ you."

_You don't want to speak, huh? Is having a normal conversation with your conscience below your dignity? Or are you just too afraid to admit your problem? I had a feeling you would be intimidated by me. I can understand why you'd be upset with your OTHER side, but I'm safe to talk to, as of now._

_You're too afraid to admit anything to yourself, Nny. All you do is whine, and complain. And you run from your problems like you just ran from that Aria girl you just saw. You have yet to confront a SINGLE problem. You never FIGHT back! _

"That is completely false. I don't think killing people who caused pain in your life counts as running away from your problems."

_It DOES, though. Take Alex, for example. Instead of owning up to being with his sister, you kill him to avoid the problem. Veronica treating you badly? Choke her and leave her there, instead of trying to solve the problem in a rational manner. Frank is ready to call the police on you, so you kill him too! You should be on death row. But you ran away from the scene. You haven't confronted ONE problem so far. To say that you have things under control is a joke._

"I'm not so sure."

_What are you going to do? Are you going to keep running, for the rest of your life? Pretty soon, there won't BE anywhere else for you to run. You'll be cornered. And THAT'S when all of your past problems will come back to haunt you. You'll be left with nothing but a "crazy" conscience and a LOT of dead people. Is that how we want things to turn out? You've got a real situation on your hands, Johnny boy._

"I _know_ it's a problem. But if you're so against it, why, may I ask, were you so ready for me to kill Aria? I, in fact, was the one who didn't have the guts to do it. 'You'd be doing her a favor by ending her misery', you said. I don't understand what made you change your mind."

_Oh, that wasn't me speaking. That was your OTHER conscience._

Johnny sat up. "What?"

_You didn't know?_

Johnny's eyes shifted, scanning the room in confusion. "I didn't know, no." He sighed, almost desperately, "I don't know anything anymore. I didn't mean for things to get this out of hand, with the killing and all. Why are things this way, anyway?"

_You found the courage to stand up for yourself? I don't know._

"I've always been afraid to stand up for myself, yes. I've always been reserved. But I'm not a violent person. Killing those people is, virtually, torturing myself. Because I'm the one who has to deal with the memories. I'm the one who has to deal with the guilt afterwards. Plus, I hate blood. Don't you remember the scene in front of Frank's house? My hand was just _gushing_ blood. I was scared to death. So why is it that, at the time, killing Alex didn't faze me at all? He was in a pool of blood, after all."

_I think that, somehow, you changed yourself. You became a different person._

"_Hell_ if I know who I am, when I don't even know who my conscience is." He paused. "Why aren't you swearing at me and insulting me like you normally do?"

_I think you're talking about the OTHER side of your conscience again._

"Oh."

Johnny clicked on the television, and watched the fuzzy picture. It was an old, epic film that had just come back from a commercial break.

_And there you go. Instead of talking to us about yourself, you turn on the TV. You're running away from your problems again!_

In frustration, Johnny hit the Off button on the remote. He flung his sore body against the uncomfortable mattress once more. "Are you happy?"

_Say it with a SMILE, Nny! We're your friends! At least, I am. Say, this room is quite disgusting. Couldn't you have picked a better place?_

The lightbulb flickered for a short moment, then burned out completely. Johnny stated dully into the dark, "The light bulb burned out."

_Well, maybe you should rest, then._

Johnny crawled under the thin blankets, but didn't go to sleep. He only lay there, staring into the dark, silent space.

"It's not right. I shouldn't be listening to imaginary voices in my head," he whispered to himself.

_I told you to sleep._


End file.
